Time Flies Right By

Wow.  has it really been that long since I posted that METROPOLIS review? I blame the holiday season, which seems to just suck the time right out of you. 

Lots of interesting films watched, including BLACK SWAN, VALHALLA RISING, the stunning Criterion Blu-ray editions of CRONOS and selections from AMERICA LOST AND FOUND: THE BBS STORY, which gets my prize for best DVD release of the year, and in a few short hours I'm off to see TRUE GRIT, where I'll probably be thinking as much about my father as I will about the film itself.

But before all that I'm wrapping up my contribution to The Spielberg Blogathon, jointly hosted by Icebox Movies and Medfly Quarantine.  The post should be up by tomorrow, and takes a look at the intersections Spielberg's films have had in my life.  It's a bit more personal than simply reviewing or analyzing the man's work, and because of that it's taken a bit more time. 

After that it'll be back to regular programming here at Celluloid Moon, including reviews of some of the above-mentioned films, all of which I enjoyed to one degree or another.  Until then, go watch something with someone you love, huh?

Revisiting Crash (1996)

Originally written for and posted on Cinema Viewfinder for Tony Dayoub's David Cronenberg Blogathon.

Discussion around the films of David Cronenberg typically fall into two categories: the early "body horror"/SF films, up to and including his brilliant 1986 re-imagining of The Fly, and the late 2000s resurgence into the mainstream, marked by 2005's A History of Violence and 2007's EASTERN PROMISES.  Poke around a bit and you'll find a few places extolling the virtues of Dead Ringers (1988) and Naked Lunch (1991), which (rightly) have their devoted followings.  1998's eXistenZ has been getting a fair amount of play lately, perhaps due to the renewed argument of video games as art, but generally speaking when it comes to David Cronenberg there's talk a-plenty about his early work and almost as much about his most recent output.

That leaves a pretty substantial gap that, taken as a whole, shows a director bravely modifying his style, searching for new ways to express his obsessions and over-arching themes:  the transformation of the physical body both as a response to and as a reflection of the mind, the nature and question of identity, and the fascination with the grotesque and the forbidden.  The films in this transitional period like Spider (2003), M. Butterfly (1993), and the aforementioned Naked Lunch and Dead Ringers all to varying degrees show Cronenberg shifting away from straight genre where his ideas could more easily be expressed and into a more realistic universe where the trick becomes harder but, because he's working in a world we readily recognize, more effective.

Cronenberg Blogathon and a New SLIFR Quiz!

Happy Labor Day, folks.  Lots of interesting things going on (though you'd wouldn't think it based on how long I've been away from this site).  Lots of films seen, lots of good ideas to write about.

First off, over at Cinema Viewfinder Tony Dayoub is hosting a Labor Day blogathon examining the works of legendary filmmaker David Cronenberg.  He's already posted two excellent pieces: a wonderful video essay from Jim Emerson over at Scanners, and an in-depth examination of Cronenberg's adaptation of NAKED LUNCH courtesy of J.D. Lafrance from Radiator Heaven.  I submitted a piece revisiting 1996's controversial CRASH, a film that's only grown in my estimation over the years which (hopefully) will be up sometime during the week, and then will find its home here.  If this year's batch of articles and reviews is anything like last year's Brian de Palma blogathon, we're all in for a great week, regardless of your interest in the subject.

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An awesome blogathon carried out by a slew of top-notch writers (I'm not so arrogant or bold to include myself in that clause, BTW) during any other time would be cause enough for celebration, but couple that with another fantastic Labor Day Movie Quiz from everyone's favorite Movie Blog Dean, Dennis Cozzalio and Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule.  This year Dennis has brought in Professor David Huxley (pictured, right) to present Professor David Huxley's Laborious, Licentious Spotted-Leopard Labor Day Film Quiz. The only thing more enjoyable that spending ridiculous amounts of time figuring out my answers to the questions is reading everyone else's.

My answers to the quiz will be up here later today.  In the meantime, check out what everyone else is writing.  Comment, contribute, get engaged and have a great holiday no matter what you do!

Scream, Rinse, Repeat

Over at You Talking to Me, my entry in the Movies That Made Going to the Movies Suck for SCREAM is up and open for comments.  It's posted below with some additional thoughts.

You see, it's a lot scarier when there's no motive, Sid."

Horror was having a bad time of it in the 90s. The grisly slashers of the late 70s and early 80s were gone, and unless your last name was King or Barker, chances are most American horror up until 1996 was relegated to home video.  Despite sticking to genre in 1995's IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS and 1996's CHILDREN OF THE DAMNED, John Carpenter wasn't having any success at the box office.  Wes Craven was faring even worse.  After trying to mix genres in THE PEOPLE UNDER THE STAIRS (1991) and his return to Elm Street with WES CRAVEN'S NEW NIGHTMARE (1994) he hit a personal low point with the Eddie Murphy vehicle VAMPIRE IN BROOKLYN.  Things clearly needed to change.

Enter SCREAM.

Movies That Made Going to the Movies Suck

All month long Mike over at You Taking to Me is counting down the list of the Greatest Movies That Made Going to the Movies Suck. It's pretty much exactly as advertised: he and numerous guest bloggers (your truly included) will be talking about some great films that for a number of reasons made going to the movies afterwards an abysmal experience. There are 27 films in total being talked about: my entry, on SCREAM (1996) will be up on May 10th.

So far there are two entries up: IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT (1934) and GLADIATOR (2000). There are a lot of fun films from all over the Hollywood timeline coming out so be sure to stop by the site daily, check out what's being said, agree or disagree, and generally have a good time.

De Palma Blog-a-thon: Revisiting Mission to Mars

My contribution to Tony's Brian De Palma Blog-a-thon is up over at Cinema Viewfinder. It's a little lightweight compared to the other (excellent) articles up, but I'm still happy with it.

The entire article is re-posted below:

Has there been a Brian De Palma film that tries harder to distance itself from being a "Brian De Palma film" than Mission to Mars? Along with The Bonfire of the Vanities (both, coincidentally, rank at the bottom of De Palma's filmography over at Rotten Tomatoes, with 24% favorable), it seems the least fitted to the themes and styles he's experimented with throughout his career. It also has the dubious personal honor of being one of only two films (the other being Francis Ford Coppola's unfairly maligned Bram Stoker's Dracula) that caused my wife to exclaim mid-film, "This was one of the stupidest movies I've ever seen."

That was nine years ago, when the film was released, and was the moment in time that instigated me to re-visit the film with as part of Cinema Viewfinder's De Palma Blog-A-Thon.

For the uninitiated, Mission to Mars is about a manned mission to the Red Planet (led by Don Cheadle, who's probably the best thing in the movie) that goes south when the team is seemingly attacked by a mysterious presence that results in the exposure of an enormous, alien face carved out of the rock. A crack team comprised of Tim Robbins, Jerry O'Connell, Connie Nielsen and Gary Sinise (who was originally slated to lead the mission until the death of his wife caused him to be taken off the mission), attempt to rescue the mission but wind up crashing on Mars, where they find Cheadle miraculously alive, and discover the mystery behind the stone face and the beings who carved it.


I only recently discovered that Mission to Mars was in part based on a Disney attraction and, in hindsight, makes the overall visual style of the film more understandable, if not better. It opens with a signature De Palma sequence—a single crane shot that slowly weaves its way through a barbecue party for Cheadle and his crew. The camera leisurely weaves its way through the main players, setting up the same tired group stereotyping: the laid back leader and his awesome wife who's almost but not quite as as capable as he is; the wise-cracking stud/comic relief; only cutting away when we get to Gary Sinise—the hot shot damaged hero.

These slow, continuous takes appear throughout Mission to Mars, and it's hard not to be impressed by some of the moments De Palma wrings out of the story. The space station monitoring the mission is introduced in a sequence that echoes the opening shot, tracking down corridors and following the walls until arriving at the command center. Some of the effects shots are particularly good—De Palma wisely backs away from the action, letting the moments unfurl methodically, as when the face's "security system" makes its appearance:


A later scene, inside the stone face, is reminiscent of Kubrick in its pristine, clinical presentation:


But nothing can overcome a script that relies too heavily on tired cliches and superfluous exposition. Plot points are telegraphed miles in advance (did anyone doubt the whole "candy DNA" gag would be important later on?); exposition is crammed into every scene; and even the effective set pieces, such as when the rescue team are forced to abandon their ship and try to manually latch onto to an orbiting satellite before burning up in Mars' atmosphere, are ruined with corny dialogue and over-used exclamations.

All of which is a shame because under all the silliness is an attempt to make an interesting science fiction film, as opposed to a sci-fi popcorn movie. Maybe not GREAT science fiction, but at least something that tries to stand out against what was popular at the time (the similarly dismal Red Planet came out the same year). Mission to Mars fails.

I have to wonder why, seeing it again, what was it in the story or the concept that caused Disney/Touchstone to reach out and say, "You know who'd be a good choice for this? Brian De Palma," and then bury what De Palma is known for doing in a rote, bland movie that was entirely typical of everything else that was out there.


Randoms ("borrowed" from Matt Dessem's wonderful Criterion Contraption)

• For a science fiction film, there are dozens of odd choices and inaccuracies that pull you out of the film. Movement on the planet feels decidedly ordinary - there is no discernible gravitational difference between Mars and Earth. In the space station, zero gravity asserts itself only when it's needed to provide moments like the candy DNA strand or the dance between Robbins and Nielsen.

• The oddest choice, the one that pulled me completely out of the film, was the decision to have everyone's voices sound perfectly normal when inside their spacesuits. It sounds like they're all in a room talking together. Quite possibly the best radio reception to ever be used in space.

• Gary Sinise wears A LOT of eye shadow in this film. It's kind of disturbing.

• Although parenthood has tempered her vitriol, my wife still hates Mission to Mars, feeling it's actively trying to make her dumber. Note to self: DO NOT ask her to re-visit Bram Stoker's Dracula with you.

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Just when you think you're doing something original (like who the heck wants to talk about Mission to Mars?), you find later that someone has indeed done it, and done it better. There's a great article over at Reverse Shot that essentially makes the same points, albeit with more flair and better overall writing ability.

De Palma Blog-a-thon!

Trust me: this is going to get interesting!